Trust Me, I'm a Boy Scout
by lorax232
Summary: Harry, having grown up as a boy scout since he was eight years old, enters Hoqwarts a little more adventurous, a little less timid, and with the motto "be prepared." The resulting story is a little more interesting for everyone.
1. Goodbye Privet Drive

The front door of Privet Drive, number four was yanked open and then slammed shut. Harry Potter, age eight, had just been about to climb out of his cupboard under the stairs. Upon hearing the door slam however, he hastily retreated into his dark sanctuary. Harry heard his uncle stomp from the front door, past the cupboard, and into the kitchen where Harry's aunt was making dinner.

"What's wrong, Vernon?" Harry heard her ask.

"What's Wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong, Petunia, the damn company is wrong!" Although Harry had needed to strain his ears to hear his aunt's voice, he had no trouble hearing his uncle's. The sheer made Harry grateful he had not gotten out of his cupboard. He could just imagine how purple Uncle Vernon's face was at the moment.

"What did the company get wrong?" asked Aunt Petunia. She seemed resigned to be shouted at by her husband despite her lack of fault in whatever had gotten him so upset.

"They're sending me to Washington!" This statement was met with silence. Aunt Petunia seemed to be trying to find a polite way to say that a business trip was not a good reason for shouting.

"For how long?" she finally asked. This seemed to be the question Uncle Vernon had been searching for, because he spoke more quietly, but his tone still contained the same outrage as before.

"Forever. The boss said I could either leave the company or move to Washington and work in the American Grunnings office!" After he said this, Aunt Petunia spluttered quietly, before joining in on insulting the company. Harry stopped paying attention though, he was too busy thinking moving to the United States.

Almost three months later, Harry was carefully wrapping plates in packing paper. It was almost midnight, and all of Privet Drive was silent. The small boy wrapped each of the dishes as quietly as he could, cringing at how loud the paper rustles when it was crinkled. His relatives were all asleep. They had gone to bed early, leaving the rest of the packing for Harry to do.

The box of plates was full. Harry winced when the tape screeched as it was pulled away from the roll. It would not do to wake his uncle, Vernon. The horrible sound was over quickly though. Harry sighed and sat down on the floor, his back against the wall. The spotless kitchen was empty except for the stacks of boxes. All the furniture had already been shipped. Looking around at the bare house, Harry tried to decide how he felt about moving. It wasn't as if he was leaving behind any friends. Maybe he'd have a better chance of making friends across the Atlantic. A mix of emotions welled up in Harry's chest. The most prominent: hope.

There was only one more place that needed packing: Harry's cupboard. As Harry opened it he felt a little sad leaving his only safe haven. After all, his relatives had never come into the cupboard. They were all too big.

Harry neatly stacked all his clothes in the bottom of a new box, leaving one set out for the plane tomorrow. Harry examined every inch of his cupboard looking for anything he might have missed. The only other thing that needed packing was the cot he slept on along with the tattered blanket and pillow, which Harry would put in the box in the morning. Lying down, Harry turned the light off, whispering goodbye to the only home he had ever known as he did so.

Albus Dumbledore looked up at his ward detector for Privet Drive from where he was sitting at his desk. It kept flashing red, before going back to green, as if it couldn't make up its mind whether the wards were failing or not. Getting up, he examined it closely through his oddly shaped spectacles. It flashed red, and began sounding an alarm, the signal that Harry Potter was in danger, but a split second later returned to green. Frowning, Dumbledore tapped the fire alarm like instrument with his wand. The light remained green. Dumbledore rubbed his eyes, looked at the clock, and decided to go to bed. With a flick of his wand the lights in his office went out. Some of the portraits mumbled a goodnight as the headmaster of Hogwarts left the room. Meanwhile, the light in the ward detector went out completely.


	2. The Scoutmaster

Enjoy :) and thanks for reading.

The Dursleys arrived at their new house in the early hours of the morning. To Aunt Petunia's distaste, the neighborhood was much less "normal" than Privet Drive. The house at the end of the street was painted a bright yellow, and the house across from that had a large collection of gnomes. Their house however, Harry noticed, was quite ordinary. He was pleased to see the yard was much bigger, and that there were several acres of woods behind the entire neighborhood. Harry's cousin, Dudley, would not likely follow him in there, should Dudley's favorite game of "Harry hunting" continue.

Getting out of the rental car, Aunt Petunia dug around in her purse until she found the key to the new house. Upon entering, Dudley began complaining loudly that there was no television hooked up. Uncle Vernon chortled at Dudley's loud cry, while Harry stood nervously in the background, hoping to be able to go to sleep soon.

"Don't worry Dudykins, the movers will get here soon, and then we'll get the telly all set up," Aunt Petunia told Dudley sweetly. Her words had no effect whatsoever.

"But I wanna watch it nooow!" He whined.

"Why don't you go choose you're room?" she finally asked. Still pouting, but determined to claim the biggest room, Dudley trudged up the stairs.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon called Harry sharply, "Start unloading the boxes." Harry mumbled a scared response before heading outside again. It was hard work carrying everything in, especially considering many of the boxes were bigger than Harry was. By the fifth load, Harry was feeling very weak. He had only slept a few hours on the twelve-hour flight and had not eaten since the day before. Halfway to the front door with a particularly heavy box, Harry's knees buckled.

"Whoa, careful there son." An unfamiliar voice said behind Harry. Looking up, Harry saw a middle-aged man with a kind face jogging up to him. He lifted up the box with one arm, and with the other, he helped Harry stand up. Harry winced when the man touched him.

"Are you just moving in?" asked the man. His blue eyes had several wrinkles around them from smiling often.

"Yes sir." Harry replied politely, looking at his feet. The man started walking to the house, talking to Harry as he went.

"I'm Alex Jacobson, I live next door. Are your parents home?" he asked. Harry followed him inside.

"I live with my aunt and uncle." Harry explained, hoping that Mr. Jacobson wouldn't think he was a freak because he didn't have parents. He was tired of everyone back in Surrey thinking of him as the orphan troublemaker. He had a hard enough time making friends as it was.

"Ah, I just wanted to introduce myself." Mr. Jacobson set the box down in the front hall and looked around for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. The house was full of dust and cobwebs, and Harry was sure the first thing Aunt Petunia would have him do was dust and vacuum everywhere.

"Hello?" At his call, Aunt Petunia came into the hall. Upon seeing her, Mr. Jacobson smiled.

"Hi, Mrs. Dursley?" he asked. Aunt Petunia's eyes flitted over the hole in his jeans and the faded t-shirt he was wearing, before plastering a fake smile on her face.

"Yes, you must excuse the mess, we just got her a few minutes ago." She said, already tying her self esteem to the cleanliness of the new house.

"Of course, of course. Sorry to barge in, I just wanted to tell you welcome to the neighborhood, and if you need any help getting settled in, to ask me and my wife." Mr. Jacobson volunteered sincerely.

"That's very generous of you, but-" Aunt Petunia started to refuse, but Mr. Jacobson interrupted.

"I'll just help your nephew finish bringing everything in, shall I?" Mr. Jacobson asked, but he didn't wait for an answer before saying "excellent," and walking back to the car. Harry silently followed him. Harry was relieved not to have to carry in the big boxes, and was relieved when the car was empty. As they brought in the last load, Mr. Jacobson pulled Aunt Petunia aside.

"Look, I'm the scout master for the local troop, and if your son and nephew wanted to come, we meet every Tuesday at seven o' clock at the church building on ninth." He explained.

"We're really not interested in paying-" Aunt Petunia started to say, but once again Mr. Jacobson cut her off.

"Oh no, the scout program is a non profit organization. Besides, it's good for young boys to learn about wilderness survival. Think about it," and with a final smile, Mr. Jacobson smiled and waved goodbye.

HJPHJPHJPHJPHJPHJPHJPHJPHJP 

The next few days pasted in an unpacking and cleaning frenzy. Harry's aunt seemed determined to get the entire house squared away before the week was out. The television had been installed the first night and Dudley had been glued to it ever since. Uncle Vernon had started work at the Grunnings office that he had been transferred too. All in all, things hadn't changed much. However, on the first night, the Dursleys had discovered there were no large cupboards to hid Harry away from, and so Harry had been given the small room at the end of the Hallway, as far away from everyone else as possible. Harry was thrilled.

The previous owner had left a scuffed up desk in the room as well as a bookshelf that was built into a nook in the wall. There were even a couple torn up books there. However, the best thing, in Harry's opinion, was sleeping in a real bed. His small cot had been a little cramped, but he hadn't realized how much until he had a twin sized bed all to himself.

It was Tuesday evening, and the Dursleys had just finished dinner. Harry had been sent outside after washing the dishes to weed the neglected flowerbeds. After he had been going at it for about an hour, and the weed pile was half as tall as he was, Harry noticed Mr. Jacobson walking up to the house. The man smiled and waved. Harry shyly waved back before going back to pull weeds. However, Harry continued to watch him curiously. Mr. Jacobson rang the doorbell and smiled when Aunt Petunia opened the door. She, on the other hand, frowned.

"Can I help you?" Asked Aunt Petunia. Once again she took note of his casual apparel with thinly concealed distain.

"Yes, I was wondering if Harry and Dudley wanted to come to the scouts meeting tonight." Mr. Jacobson explained.

"Thank you for stopping by, but you see, neither I or my husband have time to drive them there. We're-" In his usual style, Mr. Jacobson interrupted her.

"That's quite alright, I can drive them there and back," he stated in a way that seemed to finalize everything. Aunt Petunia hesitated, but knew that another excuse might be a little too transparent.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," she finally said. Harry, from the garden, perked up after hearing he was going somewhere without his aunt or uncle, and if Mr. Jacobson was there, then Dudley wouldn't be able to get away with hitting Harry.

"Boy," Aunt Petunia started, but glanced at Mr. Jacobson, "Harry, come inside and wash up." Harry eagerly came inside and rushed to get ready as his aunt persuaded Dudley to turn the T.V. off. Several minutes later and excited Harry and a disgruntled Dudley were in Mr. Jacobson's car.

"So," the man began as he drove away from their neighborhood, "Have either of you been camping before?" He had a gentle, friendly voice, which Harry immediately liked.

"No," Dudley sneered, "my mum says only animals live in the woods, and people should stay indoors where they belong." He had his pudgy arms folded and he was scowling. Mr. Jacobson chuckled.

"You'd be surprised how fun it is to live like an animal." They drove in a comfortable silence for several minutes. "Alright, here we are."

The three of them got out of the car in front of a well kept brick building. There were several other cars pulling up, and Harry saw a couple other boys his age. Parents waved goodbye before driving off. Several of them shouted out greetings to Mr. Jacobson.

Everyone slowly made there way inside to a large gym. There were metal folding chairs all set up. Harry made sure to stick close to Mr. Jacobson as all the other boys ran up to each other and started talking loudly. Dudley meanwhile sat down in the corner and continued to sulk. Finally, Mr. Jacobson stood up in front of the room and all the boys quieted down. The ten boys there, excluding Harry and Dudley, were all eight to eleven year olds.

"Welcome to Cub Scouts everyone, we have two visitors today. This is Harry, and this is Harry's cousin, Dudley." Mr. Jacobson announced with Harry and Dudley standing next to him. Harry didn't like being in front of so many people, but they all looked friendlier than the kids at his former school. Whispering broke out.

"How are the cousins? They don't look anything alike?" The only boy besides Harry with glasses, bravely asked.

"That's because Harry's parents were freaks." Dudley said. Mr. Jacobson frowned at the chubby blond boy.

"Dudley, we don't allow name calling here." At the scoutmaster's chastising, Dudley glowered.

"How come he talks differently?" Another boy with freckles asked, this time addressing Harry. Harry looked up at Mr. Jacobson, unsure if he was allowed to speak. The man smiled encouragingly. Unused to being asked questions, Harry stuttered a little as he answered.

"W-we're from Surrey."

"Where's that?" The boy with glasses asked.

"In England." Harry replied, getting a little more confident. Even more talking than before broke out.

"That's so cool! What's it like there?" This time the question came from a black boy from the back row. Harry gave a small smile, no one had ever thought anything about him was "cool."

"Alright, you can talk to Harry and Dudley later, right now we need to move on. Boys, please find a seat." Mr. Jacobson took command of the room once again. Harry sat next to the boy who had just asked what England was like, who introduced himself as Aaron. They chatted quietly for a couple seconds before both of them turned their attention back on Mr. Jacobson.

"Today we will be learning a couple different knots. My favorite is the Monkey Fist…."

After an hour had passed, Harry had talked more with Aaron, been introduced to Zack, the boy with glasses, Peter and Rick, who were identical twins, Darren, the freckled kid, and Jared, a cheerful, albeit mischievous blond boy. He also had a cord hanging around his shoulders with a "Monkey Fist" on each end and a length of rope to practice other knots on. It had been the best day in Harry's short life.

Dudley on the other hand, had not enjoyed tying knots. He sat with a couple other boys, but didn't talk much, and was a little shell-shocked that things were not going his way. As the other boys left, both Harry and Dudley came up to Mr. Jacobson.

"Can we go now?" Asked Dudley.

"Alright, follow me." The scoutmaster led the two boys back outside and to the car. The sky was just beginning to get dark and a couple stars were visible. The tall tree surrounding the buildings formed black silhouettes against the darkening sky. Harry's face retained a small smile, which couldn't be removed by the prospect of returning to the Dursleys.

"Did you two have fun?" Mr. Jacobson asked.

"What's fun about tying knots?" Dudley replied. Harry just nodded. The drive was over soon. Dudley jumped out of the car right away, but Harry hesitated, biting his lower lip.

"Mr. Jacobson?" he asked. It was the first time Harry had talked to the man without answering a direct question.

"Yes?"

"Can you drive me next week too?" asked Harry. He was terrified Mr. Jacobson would say no, that driving Harry had been a waste of his time, and that he couldn't be bothered again.

"Of course Harry, I'll see you then." Harry broke out into a grin. He waved goodbye as the car retreated and pulled into the next driveway. The scoutmaster gave his typical smile and waved back.


	3. Camping Trip

Longest chapter yet! Enjoy :)

The week pasted slowly for Harry. Since it was still summer, he didn't go to school and so all he did day after day was chores around the new Dursley home. The house had been squared away, so Harry was usually outside, trying to get the yard up to snuff with the other neighbors under strict instruction from Aunt Petunia. Dudley would stay inside except around three o' clock when the ice cream truck could be heard playing tunes such as _Do Your Ears Hang Low_. Harry avoided his uncle as much as possible because Vernon had the worst temper out of the Dursleys. However, his job seemed to be going well, and so it seemed the entire family was content as they ever were.

When Tuesday finally came around, Harry was checking the clock every five minutes after dinner. He did have enough sense to stay out of his relatives' way though, as he knew they would not like seeing Mr. Jacobson again. Aunt Petunia had called him an inferring bugger after Dudley and Harry had gotten home the previous Tuesday, whatever that meant. She had been displeased to find out that he and his wife were some of the most popular people in the neighborhood, and that everyone she talked to had nothing but nice things to say about him.

At six thirty the doorbell promptly rang. Aunt Petunia opened the door and forced a smile at the sight of Mr. Jacobson.

"How are you this evening, Mrs. Dursley?" he asked in a friendly, conversational tone. Aunt Petunia looked as though she would prefer to slam the door, but she instead replied.

"I'm well, but you see, my husband and I have decided that Dudley won't be continuing scouts. We appreciate you're coming, but-"

"Of course, Dudley didn't seem like he enjoyed it very much, but I'm here to pick up Harry," Mr. Jacobson explained.

"Harry?" asked Aunt Petunia, as though she had forgotten who he was, "I didn't know he wanted to go." Her eyes flitted over to the person in question. The expression on her face was not a happy one.

"Yes, well, you know with two boys the same age, its healthy for them to develop different interests I've heard. That way they're not always competing." Harry could see his aunt thinking it over. On the one hand she did not want anything to do with Mr. Jacobson, but on the other, this was a way to get rid of Harry for an hour without any inconvenience to her or her husband. Mr. Jacobson continued.

"I'd be glad to drive him to all of the activities he wants to go to." For a while, Aunt Petunia eyed him mistrustfully.

"You're right," she said with a gracious smile, "it would be good for the two boys to do separate things, thank you for driving the boy." Harry was elated. All the activities he wanted to go to, and without Dudley there. For the first time he would be able to get away from the Dursleys, for however short a time.

"Come along then Harry," Mr. Jacobson called. Harry immediately followed the man to the car. Mr. Jacobson pulled out of the driveway, and they were out of the neighborhood before he asked Harry,

"So what grade are you going into?"

"Third," Harry replied. He was unsure if he was supposed to say more or not. His relatives didn't like it when Harry talked, but then again they didn't ask him questions.

"So you're eight years old?" Mr. Jacobson guessed when Harry didn't elaborate.

"I'll be eight next week."

"Huh, we're thinking of going camping next week, I'd understand if you didn't want to go because it's your birthday, but it should be fun," commented Mr. Jacobson, not taking his eyes off the road. There was silence for a couple minutes as Harry debated whether or not to say something.

"I'd like to go," he finally said. Mr. Jacobson smiled.

"Awesome."

A few minutes later they arrived at the church building. This time Harry recognized all the boys getting out of the cars and going inside. Once again he followed Mr. Jacobson to the gymnasium. Once there, Harry immediately sat down next to Darren, one of the kids he had met last week.

"Hey Harry, do anything fun this week?" asked Darren, grinning at Harry.

"Not really, you?" Harry replied. He was pleased to be acknowledged by the freckle-faced boy.

"Nothing much, my aunt is visiting so all my parents want to do is boring stuff," Darren explained. Everyone else sat down. Harry turned his attention to the front of the room and noticed that there was another leader there beside Mr. Jacobson. This man was slightly shorter and stouter, but like the scoutmaster he had a friendly face.

"Welcome everyone," As Mr. Jacobson began talking everyone grew quiet. "Our activity today is learning to start fires." There was some whispered excitement. "Since there are only… eight of you, everyone divide into pairs, and we'll meet out in the parking lot." There was a rush of excitement as everyone tried to find someone to pair up with. Darren steered Harry by the arm to the hall before asking,

"Partners?" Harry grinned and nodded. For once he was not the last to be picked. Several minutes later all the boys found their way to the parking lot where there were several piles of firewood set up. Each pile was composed of different sizes of wood. In the middle of the area, there were four metal boxes set out, presumably makeshift fire pits. Unconsciously, the eight boys lined up with their backs to the brick building.

"Alright does anyone know the different types of fires?" asked the leader whose name Harry did not know. The blond boy at the end of the line answered. Harry thought his name was Scotty.

"Tepee fire?" Scotty half asked, and half told.

"That's one way, there are two others," Mr. Jacobson said as he divided the firewood, setting it down at the four fire pits set up. Darren raised his hand. The unknown leader nodded at him.

"The crisscross fire." The leader smiled

"Yes, good job, does anyone know the last one?" There was silence. After a couple seconds Mr. Jacobson spoke up.

"The last one is the star fire. Each pair will build all three types. If you watch Mr. Murray," At this he gestured to the other leader, "he'll demonstrate each one." Mr. Murray took a handful of the smallest wood, explaining as he did that it was called kindling, and for a fire, that is always what you light first. Roughly fifteen minutes later, the boys were told to try and build the three types of structures with their own wood. Harry had paid close attention, and Darren had built fires before so they were the first pair finished. Mr. Jacobson came up to them and handed Harry a book of matches.

"Alright, let's see if they start well," the scoutmaster said. Harry hesitantly tried lighting a match, but it didn't catch light.

"Here," Darren said, and he took a match, "like this." With deft fingers, Darren folded the paper over the match and yanked it so a split second later it was ablaze. "You try," Darren instructed as he blew out his match with a grin. The second time Harry tried it, his match lit. Smiling, he quickly held it to the center of the tepee pile of wood. Harry watched in fascination as the small splinters caught flame. Darren took the matches and lit their crisscross and star shaped piles of wood. After seeing the fires were lit and under control, Mr. Jacobson moved on to help the other boys.

Darren and Harry watched their small fires burn. Harry in particular was fascinated. The only fires he had ever seen were the ones turned on and off by a switch in the closed fireplace at Privet Drive.

After that there wasn't much to do besides feed the fires, but Harry was content to be making at least one friend as he did so. Darren told Harry all about the school they would both be attending that year, and about all the different activities the scouts did over the year. Towards the end of the hour, Mr. Murray came around and passed out marshmallows and roasting sticks. The troop proceeded to put their fires to use. Soon, it seemed as though everyone was laughing and covered in sticky marshmallow goo. Harry felt he had never been happier than right then.

A little over a week later, Harry was in the car, headed to his first camping trip. It was a two-hour drive to the campsite. Harry sat in one corner of the backseat of Mr. Jacobson's van, unsure how to contribute to the conversation going on between the five other boys in the car. They were laughing and joking, and Harry didn't know how to act. No one seemed to mind though, they periodically asked him questions, and continued talking when he didn't elaborate at all. By the time they arrived at the campsite, Harry felt comfortable just listening to everything.

The area had a river cutting through it, surrounded by countless evergreen trees. Ferns covered any ground that was not occupied by tree trunks or berry bushes. Despite not knowing any plant names, Harry marveled at the variety of plants that grew in the site. The pleasant, unfamiliar smell of moss and pine immediately jumped out at Harry at once when he climbed out of the car.

"Alright everyone, we're going to set up camp and then go for a quick hike before dinner," Mr. Murray announced as he emerged from the second car that had just pulled up. There was a rush as trunks were opened and ten boys jumbled around the equipment, each looking for their packs. Mr. Jacobson had lent Harry almost everything. Although embarrassed he had to rely so completely on his neighbor, Harry decided it was worth it to get away from his aunt, uncle, and cousin for the weekend.

The sleeping arrangements had been decided two days ago at the scout meeting. There would be four to a tent. Harry was sharing with Darren and the sandy-haired identical twins, Peter and Rick. As soon as each of them tracked down all their gear, they grouped together by the river to discuss where to set up their tent. A few minutes later they found a nice, flat area about twenty feet from the riverbank. As Rick, Peter, and Darren pulled out the tent, Harry stood back, unsure of what to do. He was surprised when all three of them noticed his uncertainty and started explaining how to go about setting up a tent.

"First you spread the big piece out so you can see where to put the poles," Rick explained as each boy grabbed a corner on the tent and set it down where the ground was flattest.

"Next you connect all the poles," Darren told Harry, and handed him a bundle of foot-long rods that where connected by string. While Harry, Darren, and Rick all connected the rods to form two very long poles and one shorter one, Peter unfolded another piece of the tent which looked like a thin, square tarp.

"The two long poles go through the sleeves on the tent, and then the little one goes through this cover." Peter pointed as he talked. Darren and Harry each took one of the longer poles and guided them through the slots on the tent. The poles crisscrossed in the middle and when they were attached to the corners, they bent to form two perpendicular upside-down parabolas. Once that was done, the tent began to look like a tent. The twins had the tent cover ready, which wench directly over the top and looked like some kind of hood, but Peter assured Harry it was to keep the dew and rain off. The only thing left then was to stake the tent down, which was easily done at each corner.

The four of them stepped back to admire their work. Harry in particular was immensely proud of the small shelter, never having put up a tent before. After a few minutes, all of them grabbed their backpacks and sleeping bags and unzipped the tent to set up the inside.

It was half an hour later when the troop finally started on their hike. They passed a large, grassy clearing before going on a trail that followed the river. It was pleasant in the late afternoon sun, with mist from the fast-moving water rising up toward the group. They walked one way for about two miles before turning back. Mr. Jacobson frequently stopped ant pointed out different species of plants. He pointed to the trees, explaining the differences between fir trees, and cedar trees. The Western Hemlocks were the only type of fir tree they saw, but there were a couple different types of cedar trees. Harry also learned the difference between Sword Ferns and Lady Ferns, the two main kinds of undergrowth they found. The only edible plants they found along the trail were the abundant Salmon Berry bushes. Everyone tried at least one berry, and agreed that just because something was edible, didn't mean it tasted good.

The sun had sunk just under the treetops by the time they came back. In their absence, Mr. Murray had set up ingredients for dinner and built a large crisscross fire. As soon as all the boys were close enough to hear, he explained that they would be making tin foil dinners.

"First you want the grab a piece of tin foil," he demonstrated as he talked, "and then you'll take a bit of hamburger, a mix in the onions, potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables. After that there are several seasonings, feel free to put on whichever you want." Each boy began to follow his directions.

"Be sure to make your tin foil look distinctive so you'll be able to tell it apart from everyone else's," added Mr. Jacobson. Soon there was a pile of tin foil bundles on the table. Mr. Murray began to place then in the coals of the fire, which Mr. Jacobson told all the boys to go find a long, straight stick. When they all assembled again with their stick, the scoutmaster handed each of them a ball of bread dough. Before showing them how to wrap it around the stick to cook over the fire.

Harry was glad to have something to do instead of just waiting for dinner. The tin foil dinners were beginning to smell surprisingly good.

Roasting the bread evenly proved to be harder than it looked. One end would be doughy when the other end was done, or the outside would be overdone while the inside was underdone. Still, something about the fact it had been cooked over an open fire made the bread taste better than any bread Harry had ever had before.

Almost as soon as they were done with the bread, Mr. Murray announced the foil dinners were done. Each boy came up to Mr. Murray and pointed out their tin foil bundle in the fire, and Mr. Murray would fish it out with his tongs. Gingerly, Harry unfolded the foil, and at once, steam with the wonderful smell of meat and potatoes met his nose. It was amazing that camping food could be better than many of the meals Aunt Petunia spent hours working on. While everyone was eating, Darren proposed a game of Ultimate Frisbee in the clearing right after dinner.

"How do you play that?" asked Harry.

"Oh, its so much fun, I'll show you as soon as we get there," Darren replied grinning. With the prospect of Frisbee, everyone ate a little faster and pretty soon, the entire troop had gathered at the clearing.

"Alright, so here's how you play," Darren began explain, more to Harry than anyone else, but for the benefit of anyone who might have learned the game differently, he spoke loudly, "we'll divide into two teams, and then each team tried to get the Frisbee across the goal by throwing the Frisbee to their team members." After the short explanation, Aaron began setting up boundaries, and there were a few minor disagreements, but within five minutes it was decided.

"So between those two trees is the goal for one team, and between that tree and that bush is the goal for the other team. How about Aaron and I are team captains," Darren suggested. There was a little disgruntled murmuring, but no one cared enough to disagree. Aaron took first pick of teammates.

"Zack, you're on my team."

"I'll take Harry," Darren said.

"Peter."

"Jared." And so the splitting went on until there were two teams of five. Since Darren had brought the Frisbee, their team had it first. Each team started out on their side, ready to run after the Frisbee as soon as it was thrown.

"Alright, as soon as I say go, everyone run as far as you can down the field, be careful of the other team cause they'll try to steal…Go!" Darren shouted. Harry was a fast runner, he'd had plenty of practice running from Dudley's gang back in Surrey. Within a couple seconds players were scattered all over the field. Darren threw the Frisbee. Instinctually, Harry jumped up when it came near him and caught it. With a small grin, Harry passed it onto Jared, whom he had only spoken to a couple of times, but liked already. Jared caught it, but when he made to throw it to Chris, Zack stole it. The game changed directions as everyone ran the opposite way. Zack threw the Frisbee to Peter, who threw it to his twin, but Jared intercepted it after that.

"Harry!" Jared yelled to get his attention. With lightning fast reflexes, Harry caught the Frisbee. The only player he could see at the right end of the field was Darren, who was already at the goal, more than half the length of the field away. As hard as he could, Harry threw the Frisbee to Darren, closing his eyes after letting go. He was afraid it would only go part of the way before being caught by the other team.

"Score!" Jared shouted, patting Harry on the back as he ran past him. Harry smiled, and started gaining more and more confidence as he continued to play.

The stars were just beginning to come out when they ended the game. Harry's team had won by just one point, close enough that a rematch had already been scheduled for the next day. Back at camp, Mr. Murray and Mr. Jacobson had built the fire even higher, and were sitting in front on it with pen and paper, discussing something.

"Alright everyone, time to discuss our activities for the next year." Mr. Jacobson announced as soon as he say the ten boys walking back. They all situated themselves around the fire.

"We haven't focused on life guarding at all this year." Mr. Murray said, looking down at what Harry presumed to be a schedule.

"I want to go to the Snow Caves again during winter break," Aaron spoke up. There was a general murmur of agreement. Both leaders nodded and wrote that down.

"What about a longer hike, like for three or fours days," suggested Aaron.

"That would have to be during the summer sometime…" Mr. Murray said.

"How far would we hike everyday?" Asked a boy with dark hair and an olive complexion. Harry thought his name was Barry.

"Probably seven to eight miles per day," Mr. Jacobson said. "Any ideas where you would want to hike?" he continued.

"The Pacific Crest Trail!" Jared exclaimed. The discussion continued for a long time. Harry, not being familiar with the scouting program or the area, didn't really say anything. However, he grew more and more excited for the coming year as a plan began to take shape. When everyone was yawning, Mr. Jacobson finally said,

"Alright, I think that's all that we can do today. So this fall, we'll finish the knots and fires merit badge, and start on the cooking and personal management. Sometime in October we'll have another campout. Then in the winter we'll go to the ice caves, and we'll work on first aid, knife safety, and we'll have to decide on at least two more. In the spring, we'll focus on swimming, life guarding, and other water sports with a canoe trip over spring break, and then for summer, we'll have a four day hike in July, and we'll have to decide what merit badges to focus on later. Everyone should be prepared to finalize our plans next Tuesday, but for now, its time to go to bed."

Exhausted, but elated, Harry followed Darren, Peter, and Rick to their tent to get some sleep. Before closing his eyes, Harry couldn't help but feel at home here, even though he was in the middle of the woods.

The rest of the camping trip passed in a haze of games and laughter. However, before everyone packed up the next day, Mr. Jacobson produced a birthday cake from his car and everyone sang Happy Birthday to Harry. The cake was by no means as fancy as the cakes Mrs. Dursley made for Dudley on his birthday, but somehow out in the woods, surrounded by friendly faces, the cake tasted better than anything Harry had ever eaten before.

It had been an eventful trip, Harry reflected as he finished his slice. Not only had he gone camping, he had learned several new games and made his first friends. He was not going to start school not knowing anyone. His short life was beginning to look up.

Soon it was time to head home. Most boys fell asleep in the car, but Harry quietly watched the green woods pass through the window, thinking about everything that had happened. Mr. Jacobson caught Harry's eye in the rearview mirror and smiled. Harry smiled back. In a way, Mr. Jacobson was his first friend, not to mention the one who had braved the Dursleys to make sure Harry could come to scouts. Harry wouldn't realize until years later how grateful he was.

The parents of all the other boys were waiting at the church building. Darren grinned at Harry and lightly punched his arm.

"See you next week, Harry," He called from his car. Mr. Jacobson waved goodbye to each boy and made sure they all had a ride home. Finally when they were all gone he turned to Harry.

"Let's get going shall we?" Harry nodded, a little disappointed the trip had to be over. Mr. Jacobson hummed absent-mindedly as they got in the car and he began to drive. Once they pulled up to the driveway Harry remembered the manners the Dursleys had bullied into him.

"Thank you for letting me borrow your camping equipment. Do you want me to help clean it?" he asked.

"Sure, you can come over tomorrow evening if you like. That reminds me, I meant to give you this," the scoutmaster handed Harry a small black box, tied closed with a length of string, "you can start your own collection of camping equipment now."

Harry opened the box self-consciously. He had never been given a gift before and was not entirely sure how to act. However, Harry successfully untied the string and saw inside the gift was a plain but well made pocketknife complete with wet stone. Harry gaped at the knife.

"Try to keep out of trouble with it, I'd imagine your aunt wouldn't take to kindly to anything that could be used as a weapon," Mr. Jacobson said with a wink. Harry knew the man was right. He glanced back at the house and then pocketed the gift.

"Yes sir, Thank you very much." Smiling, Mr. Jacobson waved and drove to his own house. Harry slowly walked inside, preparing to face his relatives.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and please review


	4. The Letter

I know its been forever, I'm sorry. Believe me when I say I've had ten years worth of drama the past few months. Anyway, on with the story!

Over the last three years, Harry's room had changed significantly. He had not acquired any new furniture, but the walls were now decked with maps of the Pacific Crest Trail, Cascade Mountains, and Ross Lake. The bookcase now held worn paperbacks with titles like _Treasure Island_, _Swiss Family Robinson_, and _Hatchet_. Pictures of waterfalls and lakes with a group of eleven or so young boys in the forefront were propped up on the desk. However, the greatest addition was stored under the bed. For the past couple years Mr. Jacobson had given Harry scout equipment every Christmas and Birthday. The collection of gear was the most prized possession Harry owned. A hiking backpack, stuffed with a tent, sleeping bag, and other various things sat ready to be taken into the woods at a moments notice.

Currently Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, with several piles of school assignments strewn around him. Yesterday had been the last day of school and Harry was sorting through all the papers from the year, trying to decide what to keep and what to throw away. Overall Harry had gotten pretty good marks. Harry picked up a short essay he had written entitled "Things I Did Over Winter Break" and debated whether or not to keep it. He had written about digging a snow cave on a camping trip. In the margins, his teacher had written "wonderful imagery!"

Harry's musings were cut short, as there was a tap on his door. Aunt Petunia opened the door and sniffed in distaste as she saw the papers all over the floor.

"One of those boys you always hang around with is here," she said before turning around and leaving. Harry immediately dropped the essay and stared at the alarm clock, which sat on his desk. In glowing neon letters it stated the time was twelve thirty. With a rush of excitement, Harry jumped up and ran to the front door.

"Hey Darren!" Harry grinned as he saw his best friend standing on the front porch with a frisbee clutched in his hands.

"Hey, ready to beat Zack's team?" Darren grinned back as he spoke. Ever since Harry's first camping, permanent ultimate frisbee teams had been established with weekly rematches over the summer. Today was the first game of the summer, and would be used to determine if any adjustments needed to be made to the teams.

"Definitely, let's go," Harry replied. The two of them set off, racing for the park that had a nice flat field behind the playground. Once there, they were faced with about fourteen boys. Over half of them were from boy scouts, but there were several who Harry just knew from school.

"Alright," Darren said, "everyone ready?" The group of boys split up into teams of eight. Once everyone had spread out Darren whispered to Harry, "You'll catch it in a few seconds?"

"Always," Harry spoke confidently.

Several hours later Harry walked back to his house. The group of boys had played three games and his team had won two. A small smile remained on his face as he reached his driveway. Stopping at the mailbox, Harry pulled out a small stack of envelopes and flipped through them. Electrical bill, postcard for Aunt Marge (Harry shuddered at the thought of his aunt-by-marriage), menu for a Chinese restaurant, and then a strangely thick envelope with Harry's name on it. Harry's brow furrowed and he examined it closer. Parchment, he decided, turning the thick material over in his hands. Weird. There was no stamp, no return address, just a simple

Mr. H. Potter

Spare Bedroom

221 Mount Baker Ave.

Marysville, Washington

USA

Harry decided to open it without his relatives. Putting the other envelopes under his arm, he tore open the letter, and frowned as he read the first sheet of parchment. "Witchcraft and wizardry?" Harry asked himself. Clearly someone's idea of a joke, but they knew where he lived, down to his bedroom. That was a little creepy. Harry looked up at his house, trying to imagine what his aunt and uncles' reaction to the letter would be. Not good, Harry thought to himself, defiantly not good. Harry glanced next door where Mr. Jacobson lived. Better, the scoutmaster would definitely be more help and the better person to tell. Putting the remaining mail back in the mailbox, Harry headed over to his neighbor's house.

"Hey kid, come on in," Mr. Jacobson said after Harry had knocked on the door. Harry smiled and followed his scoutmaster through the foyer. Mrs. Jacobson poked her head through the kitchen.

"Oh hello Harry, would you like a _biscuit_?" She asked. Harry laughed. Mrs. Jacobson was a few years younger than her husband with beautiful blue eyes and dark hair. She taught British Literature at the local college, and always took pleasure in using British slang around Harry.

"I'd love a cookie, thanks." He went into the kitchen and was presented with three. Harry sat down at the kitchen table, across from Mr. Jacobson.

"Look," Harry said, showing the letter to the middle-aged man. "I got that today and it kind of freaked me out." Harry bit down into his first cookie while Mr. Jacobson mumbled to himself,

"Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…" Mrs. Jacobson came over and read over her husband's shoulder. She snatched up the letter while Mr. Jacobson looked over the list of school supplies.

"Who would write a letter like this?" Just then there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Jacobson got up to answer it, putting the letter down on the table. Harry and the scoutmaster listened as she opened the door and a female voice said,

"Hello, we were just next door and were told Harry Potter might be here." The voice was polite, but had a rather no nonsense tone about it, helped a little by the Scottish accent.

"Ah, yes he is, would you like to come in?" Mrs. Jacobson answered. Harry heard the door open a little wider before a second voice, this time a man's answered. His accent was also British.

"That's very kind of you, but we need to speak with Harry concerning his admittance to a school." There was a pause.

"This school wouldn't happen to be called Hogwarts, would it?." Harry heard Mrs. Jacobson ask with a certain amount of coldness. Mr. Jacobson and Harry looked at each other before going back to straining their ears to hear everything.

"Oh dear, the statue of secrecy already broken," the woman said, "I told you we should have come before the letter, Albus." At this point Mr. Jacobson stood up to go help his wife with the two strangers, gesturing to Harry to stay put.

"Look, we appreciate your concern, but-" The woman began to speak, but she was interrupted.

"Excuse me," Harry heard Mr. Jacobson say, "but both my wife and I have Harry's best interests at heart, and since I don't know who you are, you can either come in and discuss your school with Harry in front of us, or you can go back to the Dursleys and wait for him to come back." Harry smiled. The Dursleys were notorious for driving people away. Especially if either Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon disapproved of them, and if these two people were interested in Harry, then his relatives would most certainly disapprove of them.

"We would love to come in," the woman said hurriedly.

Harry poked his head out of the kitchen as he listened to the two people come in. From the open door he could see the shadows were getting long, but it would be a few hours until dark. He turned his attention to the man and the woman as Mrs. Jacobson shut the door. Both were dressed rather oddly: in long cloaks. The man had the longest sliver beard Harry had ever seen. The woman had a stern face, and her graying hair pulled up into a tight bun. Harry looked back at the man when he felt someone looking at him. The man's eyes twinkled at Harry through his half-moon spectacles.

"Hello Harry"

Quick Question: Any opinions about who Harry should be paired with? I'd like to decide early on so I can kind of take my time to set it up. Let me know!


	5. You're A Wizard

Thanks for the reviews everyone, they really helped me decide what house I should put Harry in and who he should be paired with, but I agree with Dogsby and Dracarot, Harry won't be dating until much later and he won't date just one person. Thanks again!

"Hello Harry."

Harry blinked, a little uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of the bearded man. Unsure of himself, Harry came out of the kitchen completely, attracting the attention of all four adults.

"Hey," replied Harry. There was silence for a couple moments before Mrs. Jacobson spoke up.

"Why don't we all go into the kitchen and you two can say what you have to say about this school of yours." She gave a false smile before leading everyone to the kitchen table. With nothing else to do Harry continued eating his cookies. When he looked up both the man and the woman were staring at him.

"So… Who are you exactly?" Harry asked, trying to get the conversation moving.

"Ah, forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore, and this is Professor Minerva McGonagall." Professor Dumbledore said. He and Professor McGonagall were seated on one side of the table, while Harry, and the Jacobsons were on the other.

"And you teach witches and wizards." Mrs. Jacobson had one eyebrow raised and pursed lips.

"Yes, witches and wizards start Hogwarts when they turn eleven and graduate when they are seventeen. During those seven years they learn to control their magic." Professor Dumbledore explained. Harry frowned. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson still looked skeptical.

"Let's say for a minute magic is real," Harry started. He noticed both the professors' eyebrows rose. "What?" he asked after noting their reaction.

"Harry, did your relatives not tell you about your parents?" Professor McGonagall asked gently.

"They told me they died in a car crash when I was a baby," Harry said, "but even if magic is real-" Harry tried to get back to his original point, but was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore.

"Harry, I apologize for the shock this must cause you, but your parents were murdered by the dark wizard Voldemort." And the professor went on to explain how Harry had survived the killing curse. How Voldemort was thought to be dead, but how Dumbledore believed him to still be at large How Harry had been placed with his relatives to keep him safe. On and on until Mr. Jacobson finally interrupted the professor.

"You know, all this would be a whole lot more convincing if you had any proof that magic even exists." The scoutmaster was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. Mrs. Jacobson and Professor McGonagall were eying each other suspiciously. It was clear that if Mrs. Jacobson were less polite she would have been glaring at the self proclaimed witch, as it was however, the women fixed each other with disapproving stares. Harry meanwhile frowned. It hurt to think that these two people would us his parents' deaths as a tool in some elaborate money scheme, or whatever this was. He was immensely thankful for the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson.

"Of course, forgive me, I realize you have no reason to trust us. Allow me to demonstrate," Dumbledore was fumbling in the strangle purple robes he was wearing. McGonagall's eyes widened and she turned from Mrs. Jacobson to say desperately to Dumbledore,

"No, you can't use magic here- they're muggles!" That was enough to get both the scoutmaster and his wife glaring and McGonagall.

"Don't be silly Minerva, Harry obviously views these people as surrogate family, and as such, they have a right to know. Ah, here we are." The old man had pulled out a polished stick of wood.

With a gentle tap, the kitchen table, which Harry had previously propping his elbow on, changed. In its place stood a rather confused looking goat. Awed, Harry reached out to touch it, but changed his mind when the animal in question turned its head toward Harry and bared its teeth at the oncoming hand. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson meanwhile, were safe from the beast's teeth, and they ran their hands through the wiry white hair. The two professors merely sat back ad watched the reactions.

"So…" Mr. Jacobson paused, trying to regain his composure after such a shock. "How exactly does that work? Magic, I mean." Dumbledore turned the goat back into the table with a swish of his stick, or wand Harry supposed. As the adults dove into a heavy theoretical discussion on magic, magic users, and the universe in general, Harry sat back and allowed the shock to sink in. Magic was real. He was a wizard. Although, Harry thought, he couldn't say the fact that magic existed to be a complete shock. There was time he had been camping while it was raining.

He and Darren had been trying to get a fire started without success. Then, without warning, the wet wood had spontaneously combusted, leaving nothing but ash and a few glowing embers after a matter of seconds. Then there was the time he and Darren had ended up on the school roof… Harry was stopped from remising by the realization that if magic was real, than Hogwarts must be real too, and Hogwarts was the reason the two professors were here.

"So were exactly is Hogwarts?" Harry interrupted just as Dumbledore stared explaining a theory that magic came from the Earth.

"Ah, Hogwarts is in Scotland and-" Dumbledore began, but Mrs. Jacobson interrupted him.

"Scotland! You want him to go all the way to Scotland?" It was absurd. Harry had a life in the United States, and they wanted him to up and leave to a new country and what seemed to be a unique magical culture. On the other hand, to learn magic… Still, Harry remembered what life had been like in Surrey. How everyone at school wouldn't talk to him because of Dudley and how he spent most of his time cleaning the house.

"I understand it seems intimidating," McGonagall spoke up, "but this is a chance for you to get to know your parents world, Harry." Dumbledore nodded.

"Now you'll need quite a few wizarding supplies," Dumbledore said. "Professor McGonagall has agreed to taken you to Diagon Alley to get your school things tomorrow and she can answer any other questions you may have." Both he and McGonagall stood up.

"Wait," Harry began. All four adults turned to him. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think I want to go to Hogwarts." Both professors stared at Harry in shock. McGonagall spluttered. The Jacobsons remained sitting at the table unfazed.

"Perhaps we should talk this over a bit more." Dumbledore said while he and McGonagall took their seats at the table again.

In the end, it was Mr. Jacobson who convinced Harry. After listening to a lengthy explanation of the damage an untrained wizard could do to himself and to others, the scoutmaster finally put his two cents in.

"Well Harry, I know this doesn't sound ideal, but I think its something you should try. If you don't like it after a year, we can re-evaluate," at this McGonagall spluttered. "Besides, you'll be home for the summer and you can still spend time with your friends and participate in scouts then. I also think this will help you avoid being haunted by questions of your parents in years to come," Mr. Jacobson explained.

"Really?" Harry asked, still a little doubtful.

"I agree, and don't worry about keeping in touch Harry," Mrs. Jacobson added. "We'll be sure to write you often."

"Alright," Harry said now that most of his fears had been addressed. "I'll go, just to try it out." Both Dumbledore and McGonagall were visibly relieved. Dumbledore capped his hands together.

"Excellent, Minerva, I believe we ought to be getting back."

"Quite, now Harry, I'll be here at noon tomorrow," She told Harry. He looked back at her and nodded. She gave a thin smile. "You do look a lot like your father you know. Except for the eyes. You have Lily's eyes." The two professors left, leaving Harry and the Jacobsons unsure of what to do next.

"Well, why don't you stay for dinner Harry," Mrs. Jacobson finally suggested.

"Yeah, I think I will, thanks." Harry replied. His mind continued to try to sort out the whole evening. _I'm a wizard_, Harry thought, _I'm a wizard and I'm going halfway around the world to learn magic_

The next day Harry woke up early, thoughts of shopping with Professor McGonagall floating around his head. It was summer, so there wasn't really much to do during the morning. After cooking breakfast, Harry wound up wandering around in the woods behind the neighborhood houses. Over the past three years Harry had spent a lot of time in the woods. So after crossing the small stream and walking over the ditch on a fallen log to get to his favorite climbing tree, he easily found the way to the Jacobson's back yard. Mrs. Jacobson was outside gardening.

"Hello Harry, how are you?" She asked when she noticed him stepping between the ferns and shrubs. She added a weed to the growing pile of unwanted plants beside her.

"Pretty nervous actually," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. was not surprised when he felt several pine needles tangled in his unruly locks. He gave a halfhearted smile.

"I understand," Mrs. Jacobson looked at Harry sympathetically. "Going to a new place is never easy, but you're a charming boy, I'm sure you'll make friends in no time."

"I suppose," Harry replied, plopping down in the grass, "but I'm worried I'll loose all the friends I have here. I mean, when I moved here, I didn't have people to try to stay in touch with, and now that I do, I'm scared it'll all go away if I leave, you know?" Harry glanced over at Mrs. Jacobson, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes. It made him a little uncomfortable.

"Umm, are you alright?" he asked, unsure whether or not he should even be talking to a crying woman.

"I'm fine, Harry, I'm just going to miss you so much when you are off at school, but don't think for a moment, that I'll go away." Mrs. Jacobson pulled Harry into a hug. "I'll always be here," she said. Harry smiled, even if he still felt a little awkward.

He remembered the first time Mrs. Jacobson had hugged him. She had been helping out for the personal finance merit badge, because the scoutmaster insisted she was better at budgeting than him. In fact, she helped out with quite a few merit badges, and frequently brought treats to the scout meetings. That night Peter had asked Mrs. Jacobson if she had any kids. Then Mrs. Jacobson had gone quiet, and sadly told the scouts that she wouldn't be able to have kids. Harry had said that was probably best because she was kind of a mother to all the scouts, and wasn't eleven kids enough? That had marked the beginning of Harry's special child-parent relationship with Mrs. Jacobson.

After holding Harry close a few minutes, Mrs. Jacobson looked down at her watch. "Oh dear, it's almost noon. You'd better get back home to meet Professor McGonagall." She told Harry.

"Right, thanks for everything." Harry stood back up and brushed himself off. With a wave, he headed off towards his house.

"Be sure to come over tonight to tell us about Diagon Alley!" Mrs. Jacobson called after him. Harry turned back and told her he would.

This chapter makes me cringe a bit. I haven't quite worked out how I want to portray Dumbledore and so both his and McGonagall's characters felt kind of awkward to write. Anyway, thanks for reading.


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